


I'd Pay Him Like Thirty Dollars To Suck His-

by PrinceJakeFireCake



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of kissing, Alternate Universe - High School, Blood, Blood and Injury, But Only For As Long As He Helps Her, Cannibalism, Creepy Fluff, Creepy Hannibal Lecter, Dark Will Graham, Disabled Character, Fist Fights, Fluff, Hannibal has zero will-power, Homophobic Language, I promise, Kinda Implied Cannibal Family, Kissing, Like All the Lecters Are Cannibals, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Mischa Judges But Also Loves Him, Mischa Lecter Judges, Mischa Lecter Lives, Oh god, Poor Will Graham, Self-Harm, Sibling Love, Smitten Hannibal Lecter, Stalking, Which Makes It Seem Like, Will Doesn't Take Care of Himself, bully jocks who have no names, i'm not helping matters, implied molestation, it's fluffy though, or - Freeform, these tags make it sound so dark, they're all named Guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceJakeFireCake/pseuds/PrinceJakeFireCake
Summary: The AU where Hannibal and Mischa's childhood is the same, almost, but Mischa just lost her legs, so now she's in a wheelchair. Hannibal is infatuated with Will and has stolen his hair, Mischa is judging him constantly but he helps her catch cats so she lets him live, and Will knows Hannibal likes him (not the extent) and decides to use him to be safer in school. None of Will's plans work the way he wants, but all of Hannibal's dreams come true.





	I'd Pay Him Like Thirty Dollars To Suck His-

**Author's Note:**

> That moment when you wake up and write a hideously long high school AU just to have an excuse for Hannibal to be creepy and Mischa to judge him. I'm a slut for sibling dynamics, my dudes, I can't help it. I'm also a slut for Hannibal being the horniest teen with zero self control. That's basically canon. 
> 
> Enjoy?

Will Graham showed up just close enough to the beginning of the school year, only about two weeks after the first day, that the sophomore went almost completely unnoticed. He wore scruffy, secondhand clothes that didn't quite fit. He had to roll up the sleeves and the pant legs. His shoes were held together by thread that he'd sewn them together with himself. His curly hair was used as a shield, though he did manage to sneak in a fake pair of glasses. Anyone at school who did notice the boy was met with a bristle and a glare. 

Hannibal Lecter adored him. There was something about the boy, who never smelled like other teenage boys, semen and arousal and too much cologne, or teenage girls, arousal and perfume and desperation. He only smelled like oil and grease, dogs and fresh air, copper and blood. The blood, Hannibal knew, was from the dog bites and cat scratches Will had adorning his body. He'd made the mistake of not closing the curtain he changed behind in P.E. all the way one day, allowing Hannibal to notice the still bleeding into bandages cuts. Hannibal wanted to taste.

"You are creepy," Mischa stated, only a freshman, the only company at Hannibal's lunch table. "Do you take pictures, too? Creep."

Hannibal gave her a half-hearted glare that he didn't mean and she knew it. He knew that she was just teasing, but deigned not to tell her about the new direction his sketches had taken. From the look on her face, she knew.

"Have you at least talked to him?" she questioned, head tilted as she flicked the thin straw for milk up and down in the air with her mouth.

"And what would I say?" Hannibal questioned. "Would I tell him that I saw him changing and would like to eat him, if he'd be so inclined?"

"You could start with a "Hello,"" Mischa grinned. "Then, tell him you want to eat him."

Hannibal had grown distracted, suddenly, his eyes lighting up. Mischa didn't have to turn around to see who it was, though she did look over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes as her brother admired Will, who appeared to be getting into a near fist fight with another boy, despite being literally half his size. 

"He's so ferocious," Hannibal said. "What a sight."

Mischa rather thought he resembled a bird puffing up its feathers to look bigger. The bigger boy suddenly shoved Will's chest, earning a wince that anyone but Mischa and Hannibal would miss. The shove hadn't been hard enough even to move Will, so it should not have earned a wince. Hannibal looked about ready to stand up and see what was wrong right then, but Mischa's tiny hand on his stopped him.

"You have P.E. after this, don't you?" she asked. "You can just spy on him like you usually do. Don't pull up his shirt in the middle of the cafeteria."

"I have had a theory, for quite a while, that Dear Will was being harmed by someone," Hannibal murmured, his voice cold and angry.

"Hannibal," Mischa sighed. "If you get caught-"

"Caught? Doing what?" Hannibal played dumb. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Dearest Sister."

"Of course you don't," Mischa rolled her eyes. "He's not dumb. He'll notice if you stalk him and then murder someone."

"I'll woo him first-"

Mischa sighed. Her brother was such a fool. It was a wonder that she ever caught Will's eyes trailing over him, following him. At first, she'd thought it had been in suspicion, she knew now that it was wary interest. A part of her wanted Will to never know his feelings were reciprocated, because he'd probably die if Hannibal ever got his heart broken, but the rest of her just wanted her brother to be gross to someone else.

That day, after school, Hannibal politely wheeled his legless little sister out the front doors. Mischa was suspicious. He hadn't ranted about Will's body or cuts or blood or scent, so she immediately knew something was off. Her thoughts were confirmed when Will Graham himself caught up with them, warily glaring at them both like a stray dog. Mischa would never sarcastically think that she completely understood her brother's infatuation. She would never. That'd be unladylike.

"You said something was wrong?" Will muttered, keeping a foot between them and looking at what Mischa first thought was her lack of legs, but soon realized was just the wheels. She found her respect raising a bit for him. He was being gentlemanly, after all, by not staring.

"I thought it felt a bit harder to push," Hannibal lied, bold-facedly, to his crush. "I'm worried one of the wheels might be bent."

Mischa and Will both gave him a look that very clearly said, "No shit, Sherlock," albeit Mischa because she finally understood why he had bent that wheel so it nearly snapped in half and Will because it was painfully obvious. Hannibal only smiled charmingly. It was fake, Mischa knew, and even Will seemed suspicious.

"I probably have a wheel that size at home," Will muttered, taking a tiny step away. "I can bring it tomorrow."

Mischa pouted, thinking of the trouble pushing herself around on bent wheel would be. Will sighed and rubbed his jaw harshly.

"Or, if you'd like, I can fix it now. I live nearby," he muttered, seemingly guilty.

Mischa wanted to glare at her brother for using her to guilt the poor boy. But, at the same time, both siblings were curious about Will's living arrangements. And who was hurting him. And what he did. And they could admit a bit of obsession on their part.

"We can follow you," Hannibal offered.

"It'd probably be easier if I just drove you," Will sighed, walking off. It took Hannibal a moment to realize he was supposed to follow. Will continued, once Hannibal did follow, "I only have three seats, sorry."

"It's no problem," Hannibal stated. "Though, Mischa does get a bit carsick, so it'd probably be best if she had the window seat."

Will agreed, unsure, without turning around. Mischa glared at her brother.

"You are using a cripple," she whispered, so Will wouldn't hear.

"What if he's being abused?" Hannibal fake-whisper-gasped in response, a hand to his chest in an affronted manner. "I can't sit back and do nothing. That's a crime."

"So is using your little, crippled sister to get into the middle seat," Mischa hissed. "You just want to grope him."

"He will be driving, Mischa, I would never put us in danger like tha-"

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation on groping or whatever," Will muttered, both siblings looking up quickly. "I just- I parked on the other side of the baseball field. Do you want to go around? Or, it's a bit faster if you lift up Mischa and I can carry the wheelchair, if that's okay?"

"Are you sure you can lift it?" Mischa asked, slightly concerned. "It is pretty heavy."

"I help my dad with engines all the time, I am sure it will be fine," Will responded, face strangely blank like it usually was when he spoke to people.

"Hold onto my neck, Mischa," Hannibal hummed, allowing her to do so before he hefted her light body up in a bridal style of sorts.

Will easily lifted the wheelchair, the Lecter siblings blatantly ogling his revealed, muscled forearms as he did so. They walked across the baseball field, Hannibal only a few steps behind Will.

"Cripple-user," Mischa hissed.

"What?" Will asked.

"It is nothing," Mischa hummed. "Thank you very much for all of this, William. I hope we are not taking time away from you."

Will thought over her phrasing, then replied, "I didn't have any plans."

"None?" Hannibal hummed.

Will's neck flushed a bit and his mouth curled down before he turned his head away and out of sight. 

"A priest at the church by my house has been asking for help recently," Will muttered, more of a growl. "I'm sure he won't mind me missin' one day to help you both."

"I'm sure he won't mind dying," Hannibal whispered.

"What?" Will questioned, looking at them again.

"Nothing at all, Dear Will," Hannibal purred, smiling charmingly. Will blushed and looked away. Hannibal seemed pleased as he continued, "Mischa and myself aren't too familiar with the churches of the area. We aren't very religious."

"Because, big brother would burn up upon entry," Mischa whispered, this time so softly that only Hannibal heard. He smiled.

"It's a lovely building," Will claimed, seemingly uncomfortable. "A tree collapsed and hit a part of the church. I've just been helping them repair that."

They reached Will's truck, which looked beat up enough for Mischa to feel unsure about this whole thing- not that she'd had a say in any of it from the start. Will gently, as though it was a baby fawn, set the wheelchair in the bed of the truck. He opened the door for Hannibal to get in, gently taking Mischa from him. She didn't mind being passed, as Will held her as though she was a precious piece of glass and she rather liked the idea of someone treating her so gently. Her brother held her like a sack of potatoes, at this point. He even set her in her seat like she imagined a prince would a princess. She liked that thought, as he left her to do up her own seat belt.

It was a tight squeeze, with Hannibal in the middle. His and Will's thighs were pressed flush together, making Will's face flush a light pink. Mischa rolled her eyes at her brother's cat-that-caught-the-canary grin. Will just started the car, the start unexpectedly smooth, and began to drive.

"It should only take a few minutes to fix, unless Dad put the box of wheels in the back of the shed, then it might take a bit longer," Will said. "Is that okay? We have lemonade, I'm pretty sure, or I know where my dad keeps his liquor, if you prefer."

"Liquor?" Mischa and Hannibal repeated, confused.

"I'll get you guys some lemonade," Will said without explaining the unfamiliar word to the pair of multi-linguals. "It will be easiest to fix on the back porch, if that's okay? We don't have a fence around our backyard and the inside smells bad, so I hope it's okay."

"More than," Hannibal assured him, because he was a teenage boy with an obvious crush who wanted to see where said crush lived so he could set up cameras and microphones and, potentially, look through the windows at night. Or, at least, that was what Mischa assumed. She wasn't too far off with what Hannibal wanted, honestly.

"I'm glad," Will said with an innocent smile that was a complete and utter lie, but neither Lecter sibling knew that. "It should be shady enough to be comfortable."

They reached Will's house, which was more so a rundown shack on a plot of land covered in cement with a shed the size of the small house out back. There was no fence, but the church was, indeed, right next door. The cement plot of land was covered in half torn apart cars and boats, with walkways here and there. Will hurried to park, then take out the wheelchair and carefully set Mischa down in it. Hannibal pushed Mischa's chair, both curious, as Will led them around to the back.

From the back, they could see the gaping whole in the side of the church. They stared for a moment, but Will only laughed. He looked at the tree stump, large and round, just off the cement.

"Some of the younger boys were saying it almost hit one of the priests," he commented lightly. "Some of them even went so far as to say that God Himself willed it. Odd, isn't it? The very priest who wants my help so badly almost died. Anyway, I'll be right back with your lemonade."

Will slipped into the house through the backdoor. Mischa and Hannibal made eye contact.

"Child molester?" Mischa suggested.

"What a disgusting monster," Hannibal huffed. "Not worth gracing our dinner, more worth feeding to the raccoons."

"The raccoons have standards far above that," Mischa giggled.

"I know of a few rabies-infested creatures who will enjoy," Hannibal murmured with a smile. "Or, if you want to attract more cats, we could use it for that."

"Oh, more kittens?" Mischa exclaimed. "They are so sweet, Hannibal! I know we cannot keep any of them, but they are so cuddly!"

Will, exiting at the last part, tilted his head curiously. He handed them both glasses of lemonade.

"We live near a part of the woods where many kittens live," Mischa explained. "I adore kittens, but our uncle is, unfortunately, allergic."

"I completely understand!" Will chirped, eyes glowing with excitement. "I adore dogs, but we live near so many dangerous car parts, and we don't have any grass, so we can't keep any."

"The church will not let you use their grass?" Mischa exclaimed, personally offended.

"They told me any dogs would ruin the peace of the place," Will said, disappointed. Somehow, without being told, they knew which priest had said so. "Anyway, I'll look in the shed for a wheel, okay? It shouldn't really take too long."

The moment Will was out of earshot, Hannibal stated, "Did you see that disappointment? No one is allowed to disappoint him!"

"Did you not have a "wonderful" dream about stabbing him?" Mischa questioned.

"Well, I can hurt him," Hannibal scoffed. "No one else, of course."

"Of course," Mischa agreed, in no way sarcastically.

"Your grasp of English doesn't include contractions but includes sarcasm," Hannibal murmured. "You should stop before you say something sarcastic in Japanese and our aunt murders you in cold blood."

"You are just jealous that your dumb crush carried me like a princess and not you."

"Do not think me above fighting a young girl in a wheelchair, Mischa."

"Excuse me," a new voice said, before said fighting of a young girl in a wheelchair could commence, not that Hannibal would win since Mischa had a tendency to bite. "Do you know where William is? He was supposed to help with the church."

The priest was handsome, Hannibal and Mischa noted, even for his age. He had a trustworthy, liar's smile. Mischa wanted to bite his hands off. He stared at where her legs should be, no matter how discreet he tried to be.

Mischa babbled out something in Lithuanian, looking stricken, though her words were rude and gross rather than apologetic. Hannibal gave the man the most innocent look he could, which was very convincing since he wasn't that old.

"I am sorry," he said, slowly, as though getting a grasp on the language. "We are here for help."

"From the church?" the man asked, annoyed that his question was ignored.

"Americans store wheels in churches?" Hannibal questioned, a hand flying to his mouth. "What strange way to worship."

Mischa called the man some truly horrible terms in Lithuanian, all under the guise of looking confused. She even pointed at him and babbled to her brother. Her insulting him while looking so clueless was truly a wonderful act that she had perfected. Hannibal was so proud.

"We don't store wheels in churches," the man grumbled, annoyed. "Where is-"

"Oh!" Will exclaimed, popping his head out of the shed. "Hello. I'm sorry, I'm fixing her wheelchair. The wheel is bent."

The man looked down at the obviously bent wheel that he would've noticed had he not been staring a Mischa's lack of legs.

"I can't help today," Will said. "Dad buried the wheels in the very back of the shed- it'll take all day to dig them out."

Hannibal hid the way he very obviously perked up behind his lemonade. Mischa rolled her eyes at him, not bothering to hide it.

"You are like a dog who wants to roll in his master's sheets," she said in Lithuanian.

Hannibal seemed to consider rolling in Will's sheets. Mischa slapped at him. The man seemed upset, almost angry. Will shuddered a bit, shrinking only slightly. Hannibal's thoughts returned to murder.

"Are you sure?" the man questioned. "We could really use your help, and I'm sure someone else could help these two-"

"You wish my darling, baby sister to push her wheelchair around with a bent wheel while we desperately search for assistance, after Will has so kindly offered to help?" Hannibal gasped, a hand to his chest, aghast. "My dearest sister who has no legs? Where would we go? Who could we go to? Even church cannot help, since you do not store wheels there! How cruel, how rude, how terrible, how mean-"

"I get it," the man huffed, leaving.

"Thank you," Will chirped, his smile wide as he exited the shed with the exact wheel and tools they needed. "It's hard for me to tell people no."

"He was unbearably rude," Hannibal commented. "No wonder you don't want to spend time with him."

"He stared," Mischa grumbled, arms crossed. "No gentleman stares."

Will paled, seemingly stricken, as he murmured, "D-did he make you uncomfortable? I'm so sorry, Mischa, Hannibal, I didn't mean to-"

"It is not your fault," Mischa assured. "Many people stare. I just find it cruel. I know I do not have legs, a reminder is unnecessary."

"I'm still sorry," Will sighed, blowing some of his curls out of his face as he knelt down to fix the wheel.

Mischa and Hannibal exchanged a look. The wheel only took a few minutes to fix, which Mischa thanked Will for. Will blushed, but looked pleased as he drove them back to the school so they could go home in their own car. Will hesitated before he left, suddenly looking up at Hannibal through his eyelashes.

"Be careful with the wheel," he murmured, almost demure. "I can fix it any time, but I wouldn't want Mischa to be uncomfortable."

Will left them alone. They were silent for only a moment.

"He completely knows you bent it on purpose," Mischa stated.

"He's so clever," Hannibal cooed.

That night, Hannibal met the priest again, without anyone's knowledge. Including that of the priest.

The next morning, as Hannibal rolled Mischa into the school building (she didn't need his help pushing her in the wheelchair, it was just punishment for leaving her for two hours last night when he'd promised to be home in just one), Will approached them. He looked nervous to do so, eyes darting as though someone would dart out of the brickwork and tell him he was unwanted. That someone would definitely not be Hannibal, however, who looked just about ready to swoon because Will existed.

"G-good morning," he offered weakly, fiddling with his backpack straps and decidedly not looking at them. "Is the wheel working okay?"

"It is very nice," Mischa replied. "Did you touch the other wheels? I do not remember my chair being so easy to move."

"Sorry," Will mumbled.

"I am not upset," Mischa sighed, closing her eyes and her mouth twitching in disappointment. "This just makes it difficult to call forcing Hannibal to push the chair a punishment."

Will smiled, laughing a bit. He told them, "That's okay, Mischa, I'll just close the curtain all the way tomorrow for punishment." Then, he hurried off to his first class when the bell rang. Mischa and Hannibal made eye contact. Mischa was disgusted by how love-struck her brother seemed.

"He has played with you like a doll," she told him.

"He's perfect," Hannibal murmured, covering his goofy smile with his hands. "I adore him. Adorable."

"I am telling our uncle that you are the one who let the cat in, today," Mischa threatened.

"You can't keep lying to him!" Hannibal argued.

"You lie to him all the time!"

"That's how we show love."

"I am going to find your sketchbook and show it to William, you are disgusting, Brother. What is the term? You are gooey over him."

Hannibal pouted and pushed her to her first class. He grumbled, "I would correct you, but I'm only ninety percent sure that's not the correct phrasing."

"Gooey Hannibal," she said. "Hannibal goo."

"Now, you are just being childish."

The news of the dead priest, found hanging off his roof with a strand of Christmas lights around his neck, was spread around the school by lunch. Mischa and Hannibal were having a conversation about how weird it was to refer to rain as "cats and dogs" when a passing group of girls, specifically one girl saying, "Why would he put up Christmas lights in the middle of October? This will haunt me forever," caught their attention for a moment. Mischa gave Hannibal a Look. 

"I didn't know!" he exclaimed in Italian, just to spite her since it was her worst language. "It was dark!"

"It is very unfortunate that light switches have not yet been invented," Mischa commented.

"I'm not going to help you catch any cats if you keep this up," Hannibal snapped.

"Is now a bad time?" Will asked, standing just behind them uncomfortably.

"Never," Hannibal said, smiling instantly. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing big," Will said, eyes downcast. Even Mischa found herself slightly swayed by his puppy-dog, sad face.

"What is it?" Hannibal questioned, digging his nails into his own thigh to keep his smile pleasant.

"Could you walk with me to my next class?" Will murmured, biting his lip, his eyes big and sad and convincing.

Hannibal, who looked vaguely like all of his dreams had come true, nodded almost too eagerly. He pulled out the chair next to him, gesturing for Will to sit. He did, albeit hesitantly. Mischa rolled her eyes at her brother's theatrics.

"It's just, some of the football players have been being a bit rude lately," Will sighed, pretending he wasn't looking at Hannibal out of the corner of his eyes, beneath his eyelashes. "I thought, maybe, that being with you would encourage them to shut up."

"Rude?" Mischa questioned. "I did not know they had brains enough to be rude."

Mischa was biased, since a football player had thought it would be funny to push her out of her wheelchair during P.E. She had crawled over to him and bit his ankle so hard, he'd had to sit out for most of the season. He still shivered whenever they made eye contact. 

"Just the usual things," Will said wearily, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "They call me faggot, ask where my boyfriend is, one boy tried to hit my butt-"

"What?" Hannibal snapped, actually making himself bleed he dug his nails so deep into his thigh. Mischa tried to subtly hold his hand so Will wouldn't notice. "That's sexual assault. You should tell the principal."

"The football coach just stood there and let it happen," Will grumbled. "What will the principal do? They like football more than me."

Hannibal looked about ready to tear someone's throat out with his teeth. Will sighed, patting his shoulder. Hannibal stiffened and looked torn between fury and horny.

"It's fine, Hannibal," Will said with a slight smile. "I just want to use you as a shield for a bit, you know? I'll owe you."

Horny won out. Mischa flicked her brother when his eyes started to glaze, bringing him back to the present. Will seemed non the wiser, but Mischa and Hannibal both knew he might just be hiding it. He was a good actor.

"I'd walk you to every class if you needed," Hannibal said.

Will blushed up to his ears, waving his hand wildly, squeaking, "That's not necessary."

"Are you sure? I'd be more than happy to-"

"Hannibal, please," Mischa huffed. "You are giving him an aneurysm."

"Where did you learn that word?" Hannibal questioned, hands on his hips. "I've told you before to be careful which words you learn."

"I read it in a book," Mischa lied, straight to her loving, caring, darling brother's face. He gaped, hand to his chest melodramatically. 

"I can't believe you are lying straight to your loving, caring, darling brother's face," he murmured, shaking his head. "Mischa, for shame."

Mischa huffed, angrily crossing her arms. Hannibal knew she didn't like that phrase.

"It does not make any sense!" she exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. "What is it supposed to mean? What is for shame? You are a dumb, gooey boy, Hannibal."

"Gooey?" Will repeated, confused. "Do you mean sappy, maybe?"

"They are the same word," Mischa huffed, defensive.

"Of course," Will lied, because everyone knew about how Mischa tended to bite.

The bell rang before anyone could call him out, though Mischa gave him a look that said she was considering it anyway. Hannibal walked by his side to Will's class, which was near his own, smiling like a sap whenever their hands brushed. Will thought, peering at him from the corner of his eye, that the word gooey probably suited him better than sappy.

The football players, albeit only three of them, began immediately. Hannibal's presence didn't seem to do anything but encourage them to insult him as well. Hannibal turned to Will, ignoring them as easily as one would ignore a single strand of grass in a grassy field.

"I hope you realize I fully intend to use my position as a wealthy young elite to tear them all apart," he told Will.

"A small part of me hoped you would," Will admitted with a cunning grin.

Hannibal could hardly resist that. He kissed him, in the middle of a crowded hallway, with teachers, students, and jeering football students staring at them. Will also stared at him, shocked, but the taste of his shock was so sweet that Hannibal only smiled into the kiss. He pulled away slowly, the hall quiet as students tried to run past them before they could get caught staring. Rumours had spread, like fire through dead grass and trees, that Mischa bit whoever stared at her brother too long with the wrong expression. But, nobody knew what the right expression was.

"You-" Will gasped.

"I can't believe the two faggiest guys are together," one of the football players muttered, making Will's face go pale. "How much does he pay you to suck his dick, Will-"

Hannibal had never been quite so turned on as when Will punched the guy, his fist meeting his nose with a satisfying crunch. It sent the boy sprawling, Will growling and tearing and snarling after him. It took three teachers to get Will off of the boy, still kicking and clawing, his shirt stained with blood from his own nose and the boy's, half the buttons on his shirt torn from the teachers' desperate attempts to tear him away. Hannibal was terribly, hopelessly in love.

Later, after an hour of fake-sobbing in the principal's office - Hannibal tearily said that the boy had threatened his sister and him and Will had merely stood up for him and was the school really going to send his and his crippled baby sister's saviour away because he'd saved them? How cruel the world was, he would have to tell his aunt and uncle all about it when he got home and they'd probably have to withdraw all those donations they'd given the school so they could go somewhere else, somewhere safer where the siblings wouldn't need Will to save them from bullies - Hannibal sat next to Will on a bench outside the school building. 

Will held his shirt together, using the napkins Hannibal had gotten him from the cafeteria to try to clean the blood away from his nose. Hannibal watched unblinkingly, his hands clenching the wood of the bench between his legs to keep him from hugging and kissing Will all over again. The principal had sent them outside while they called in their parents and the football player's. Hannibal tried not to wince, knowing that Aunt Murasaki wouldn't be happy he'd lost control of himself and kissed the boy in the middle of the hallway. 

Hannibal's whole family knew of his infatuation with Will. They knew because the first time he'd seen Will, he'd immediately gotten up from his seat in the lunchroom and walked home and babbled incoherently about emotions and how much he wanted to cry but also he wanted to hug him and his chest hurt so much he thought he was dying. His aunt had very gently sat him down and explained affection towards other human beings to him. She'd also told him that if the depths of his feelings had overwhelmed him, then they would definitely overwhelm Will if Hannibal did what he wanted and made out with him in the middle of P.E. She told him to take it slow, ease Will into it, make it easier on both of them. Uncle Robert had stood in the doorway the whole time, then added that it would probably be weird if he told Will out of the blue that he had their whole wedding planned. Hannibal had blushed, but had written out the wedding plans later on anyway, so he'd remember (as if he'd ever forget).

Aunt Murasaki and Uncle Robert arrived before any other guardians. Will seemed to shrink before them as they approached Hannibal, as if they'd yell at him for punching a kid. Aunt Murasaki took Hannibal's face in her hands, moving it to check for any injuries while Uncle Robert stared down the football player, about ready to start another fight. After a moment of patting Hannibal down to check for any injuries, Aunt Murasaki sighed and patted his head.

"You made out with him in the middle of the hall, didn't you?" she questioned drily.

Will's face went a charming shade of red. Hannibal tried to fight his automatic urge to beam at him, but ultimately failed. Murasaki and Robert gave each other dry looks. Will looked about ready to beg for forgiveness and also cry. Hannibal wanted to bite him.

"You're a terrible influence on your sister," Robert grumbled, rubbing his face with a broad hand. "What do you think she'll do with her first crush? She's going to end up biting someone's hand off if you keep up this bad behaviour, Hannibal."

"But, he smiled at me," Hannibal stated - he did not whine because he was Hannibal Lecter and Hannibal Lecter would never stoop so low as to whine - and leaned back. "I couldn't resist. I was overcome."

Will looked like he might spontaneously combust. Hannibal thought steam might start coming from his ears. He smiled dopily at him again. Will was very pointedly not looking at him.

"Thank you for protecting my dumb nephew," Murasaki told Will, who stiffened. "We'll replace your shirt and please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything in repayment."

"It's fine! I threw the first punch, it wasn't Hannibal's fault," Will squeaked, looking anywhere but at the tiny lady in front of him.

"The other boy asked how much I charged for blowjobs and Will broke his nose," Hannibal cooed. "It was so romantic."

"He suggested- He dared to- I'm going to tear him apart," Robert growled, furious, about ready to kill the boy before Murasaki set a hand on his upper arm and kept him still.

"Of course, we will be getting him suspended," she said. "Don't commit murder, Robert, Charlotte would never agree to mow our lawn again."

Robert crossed his arms darkly. Will glanced at Hannibal only to find Hannibal smiling at him. He looked away again, but Hannibal grasped his hand. Will stiffened, but didn't pull away. Murasaki and Robert both prowled inside to speak to the principal, not noticing the boys' hand holding.

"Are we boyfriends now?" Hannibal asked, excitedly.

"How long have you been waiting to ask that?" Will muttered, but couldn't stop a small smile from spreading on his face.

"Since I first met you," Hannibal replied. "Neither of us are eighteen, so we can't get married. Boyfriends seems okay for now."

"You're obsessed with me," Will stated.

"Does that bother you?" Hannibal asked, tilting his head.

"Not really. It's a nice change of pace."

Will pecked Hannibal's check. Hannibal pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing all over his face and rambling about the wedding, the house, the kids, the dogs, since Will liked dogs, but they weren't fully in the plan yet because Hannibal needed to find a way to work them in. Will blushed beautifully, but hugged Hannibal back gently. 

By the time Murasaki and Robert exited the school again, Will was giving a very impassioned speech about how Hannibal couldn't just jump his bones every time he showed the slightest bit of reciprocated affection. Will's dad, who had showed up when the speech began, wondered idly if he was drunk enough for this. Since he was sober, the answer was no. He sighed and set a hand on Will's shoulder. The boy jumped almost a full foot into the air.

"Dad!" he shrieked. "You scared me! I'm sorry I punched a kid! He asked how much Hannibal gave me to suck his dick and I just got really upset and I didn't mean to and also Hannibal likes me back, so that's a good thing, I guess, but I'm probably going to be suspended and we'll have to move again and I'm really sorry, Dad, I tried really hard-"

"I'm not upset," Will's dad stated.

"You're not getting suspended," Murasaki added with a glare back at the school. "That horrid boy is."

"Asking my nephew that," Robert growled. "He deserves worse."

Will's dad looked confused. Murasaki began to explain the situation to him, since the principal had only told him Will socked a kid, Robert adding remarks every now and then.

"Do you want to go on a date on Friday or Saturday?" Hannibal asked, thoughtfully, while the three were distracted. "I think Saturday would be best because we could spend all day together."

Will gave him a wary look. Hannibal looked away.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Hannibal sniffed. "I wouldn't try to have sex with you on our first date. I'm a gentleman."

Will's expression said he didn't believe him, which was fair for a number of reasons, but it softened a bit when Hannibal pouted at him.

"I don't have plans Saturday," Will murmured with a faint blush and a small smile. "That'd be fine."

Hannibal could hardly resist that and so he kissed him again. Will huffed out a sigh through his nose and rolled his eyes, pulling away.

"What did I just say?" he huffed, not actually upset.

"I was overcome," Hannibal stated.

"You can't use that excuse every time you do something," Will muttered, frowning, which was an attractive expression so Hannibal kissed him again. Will rolled his eyes. He managed, against Hannibal's mouth, "You're ridiculous."

"I am very glad that you have someone else to rant to Will about now," Mischa commented, appearing because she'd been called down to the front office. 

"What's to rant about?" Will questioned, concerned, holding Hannibal at arm's length. 

"Have you seen your face?" Hannibal murmured, smitten. "You always smell so nice, too, and your hair is so curly and I just really want to bite you because it's really unfair that all those dogs and cats got to bite you first and-"

"Hannibal, do you remember when I told you about overwhelming?" Aunt Murasaki asked, gently putting her hand over his mouth so he'd stop.

Will's face looked pretty red, almost purple. His dad looked like he wasn't quite drunk enough for this. Mischa scowled, crossing her arms.

"I am not helping you hide his body if he breaks up with you," she huffed. "Calm your breasts."

"I think you mean tits," Will's dad said, patting his pockets and looking thoroughly saddened when no alcohol turned up.

"Indeed," Mischa agreed.

Will looked a bit grumpily at his dad and Mischa, eyes wide and face red. Hannibal could hardly help himself at that expression, and so kissed him again. This time, Will only laughed, which was really cute, so Hannibal smiled into their chaste kiss. 

"I am disowning him for being gross," Mischa told her uncle and aunt. 

"You can't," Robert claimed. "He wouldn't help you sneak in anymore cats."

"He is weaker willed than a paper doll, I will get Will to ask him," Mischa argued.

"Stop making out with me in front of our families," Will squeaked, face cherry red, which was tempting but he pushed Hannibal's face away. 

"Away from our families, then?" Hannibal suggested.

"You're awful," Will whined.

He had no idea, the rest of Hannibal's family thought. Will probably didn't even know about the time Hannibal had burst through the front door with a lock of Will's hair and a manic grin. He didn't know about the day Hannibal had stolen Will's glove, which had a bit of blood on it from a dog bite or something similar, and licked it. Mischa was tempted to tell him.

"Biting is off limits in front of our families, too!" Will exclaimed.

Mischa decided she probably wouldn't need to tell him.


End file.
